Can't Sleep
by Konstantinsen
Summary: More often than not, a good friend responds to the plea of another no matter the time and place.
1. Can't Sleep

**NOTE: Here's a quick fic that I wrote on a whim. _Until Dawn_ is amazing. I love it. Seen quite a number of playthroughs with differing outcomes. Sorry, I had to write this down. Just had to before it left my mind.**

 **EDIT (9/23/2015): Added more words.**

* * *

It was two in the morning when Chris gargled out of his sleep to silence that annoying pop song that had become his ringtone. He reached over and scrambled for the screaming device as well as his glasses. He immediately jolted upright on his bed upon seeing the name and answered the call.

"Ash?"

There was whimpering on the other end. "Chris?"

"Ash? Ash, are you okay? What's wrong?" Chris asked, drowsiness withering away.

"Chris, I...I... I can't sleep..." Ashley stammered.

"Oh, Ash..." He rubbed his eyes to stay awake. "I know, I know."

He heard her break down. "Chris, I can't stop dreaming about what happened... The nightmares won't go away. I don't want to go to a psychiatrist, Chris. I just want to forget this all ever happened! I just, I just..."

"Ash, I understand. We're both traumatized. We all are. It...it takes time."

Ashley sniffled. "At least you're not having them. It's just that...my head keeps bringing up the saw blade and the, and the gun, and...and..."

"Shhhh, Ash. It's okay. It's over now. No wendigos, no crazy Saw stuff; it's all over." He waited for Ashley to hold herself up again. "I know, it's tough. I'm still recovering. We just gotta...power through it, y'know?"

"I...I can't..."

Before he knew it, Chris was on his way to the kitchen to grab himself a cold glass of water, phone glued to his ear. "Ash, listen to me. Josh was...Josh lost it. He overdid this revenge prank and things got out of hand. But it is all over. I promise you, Ash, it is all over. It's all in your head now. The wendigos are dead. Done. Gone."

"But, Chris, what about the two cops who went missing in the mines? They still haven't found Josh and, and..." Ashley sobbed.

"Ash, calm down. Keep it together," Chris nearly growled. He mentally slapped himself. It felt so wrong the way he said it, like he was a scene from Full Metal Jacket. He quickly shifted gears. "Oh, geez... Listen, I just came out of a bad dream. And it was just like yours, being back at the lodge, pointing the gun at, at..." He gulped down on his drink.

"At me? Because, Chris, in my dream, I was pointing it to you... And I, I pulled the trigger. I didn't want to but I had to! I'm sorry, Chris, I'm so, so sorry..."

Ashley was now audibly in tears; sobbing, hiccuping, choking. Chris dropped onto the stool before the bar, burying his hair into his hands. Poor Ash. They were all through it. The night was the worst but the aftermath was just as bad. Local media fanfare, being dubbed the 'Blackwood Seven', interrogated relentlessly, accused, foul play, all that shit happening.

And just everyone was going through their own plate of post-traumatic stress management, he was constantly on the receiving end of Ashley's growing hysteria. He wondered how many respirators were needed before she finally returned to normal.

Ashley continued to cry over the wire while Chris felt like shit. And it sucked that it seemed as though there was nothing he could do. Other than prop Ashley up. "Ash, it's alright. I'm still here. I'm talking to you. We're all okay. Come now, you need to get some sleep."

Chris waited until Ashley winded down. He guessed she was tired. "Chris... I'm sorry, I... I didn't... I just wanted to... I..."

"Shhhh," he replied as calmly as he could. "It's okay, Ash. It's okay."

"Thanks..." she croaked. "I...I... Thanks for being there...I know I'm being a pain and all but..."

"No, no, Ash! It's all good. This was good time." Chris could feel her smile on the other end. That made him comfortable. And warm. "Hey, let's meet up first thing in the morning, 'kay? Same place. My treat."

Ashley composed herself. "Okay... Okay. Will do. And...Chris?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks...I...I really appreciate it."

"Don't mention it. As long as you're doing fine."

"I am now. Thanks. See you tomorrow, Chris. Bye."

"Bye." Chris held the phone up to his ear long after she clicked off. When he finally laid it down on the bar, he felt his eyes water. He took off his glasses and began to weep. It was his turn to feel pain.

Amid his slow mourning, he hoped that Sam and the rest were doing okay.

* * *

 **ORIGINALLY DRAFTED: September 12, 2015**

 **LAST EDITED: September 22, 2015**


	2. Therapy

The metronome ticked endlessly on the table, waving its still hand back and forth, back and forth. The light shifting through the blinds made it all the more mesmerizing. Doctor Hill departed from the window towards his chair, settling easily in front of her.

"So, Jessica, how are you feeling?"

"Tired," Jess croaked without offering any chance for eye contact. She held her hands tighter around her arms as she glued her sights to the carpet. She didn't want to see a shrink but her tongue was too dry for her to say anything against it. It was the sheriff's suggestion and her parents willfully agreed without so much as letting her know about it.

"Jessica, I understand how difficult this is for you. Such experiences are quite heavy on the mind. Recovery is a long, arduous process and there are many things along the way that can so easily interrupt that. But I am here to help you."

"Right..."

Doctor Hill straightened up. "There is nothing to fear. I was hoping we could share a bond of trust beginning today."

Jessica met him in the eyes but briefly.

The fleeting momentary glance lasted long enough for Doctor Hill to read her completely. He reached into his drawer and drew out a pen and notebook. "To ease this process, it is imperative that we retrace the past step by step. Sometimes, the best method of healing is to rifle through our collective memory. Shall we begin?"

Jess didn't want to. But she nodded anyway.

"Very well. Please be honest with your answers. It helps. Now...how long have you known Joshua Washington?"

* * *

Emily found herself isolated. Though she was with her clique of friends on a regular basis—every day of the week—she felt as though the floor stretched three feet apart from her and the rest of the fine young ladies prowling Rodeo Drive. Not even the latest in designer clothing or the finest of accessories could break down the hypnotizing stupor of being a survivor from a freaking living nightmare.

The atmosphere was colorful but the mood felt dry. Emily saw herself greyed out against the more vibrant rainbow palette painted by the Los Angeles sun. Try as she might, her frown prevailed over her lackluster attempts to display pride and confidence.

"Em?"

Emily snapped out of it. "Matt? What do you want?"

"Em, are you feeling okay?" Matt asked, coming over from across the indoor plaza. "You're...you don't look too good."

"I'm fine," she snorted. She darted her eyes to the palm tree growing out of the pot next to the escalator. Anything to keep him from seeing through her eyeliner. He was good at that. "Shouldn't you be seeing a shrink or something?"

"Seriously? No, no. I was just...checking."

"Check what? What are you onto?"

Matt rubbed the back of his head. This was getting more complicated more so after she dumped him a few months after Blackwood. And he risked his goddamn life to save her too. But Em was Em. And there was no changing that. Not even the lunacy of a good friend and a pack of cannibalistic...things...would do so much as dent her ironclad shell.

But perhaps she was starting to crack. And it worried him. Even though they were no longer together. "Em, I was just being concerned. You...you haven't been yourself lately."

"Oh, right, like I wasn't," Emily snarled.

"Have you had any sleep?" Matt asked, peering at her face. "Really, you look tired."

She waved him off. "Matt, please! Stop bothering, will you? Why are you even here?"

"I needed to get some air. Been a lot going on right now."

She frowned. "Pssh, right. Whatever." In the back of her mind, she could not deny that her retort came out rather weakly.

"Come on, Em," Matt pressed, his voice growing softer. "Don't tell me you're not feeling it too."

"Feel what, meat-for-brains?"

"You know. Uneasy? Weird?"

"What? Trauma?" Emily visibly recoiled. "The hell, Matt! I'm fine! Just stop it already! I don't need to see a shrink. Do I look like Jess who has appointments twice a week and needs a freaking prescription list to stay sane? Look, I'm fine. Period. Christ..."

Matt gave up. He shrugged and raised his arms. Another dead end. "Alright, alright. Whatever you say."

It was only when he disappeared into the crowd that Emily suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to find somewhere private. As soon as she locked herself inside one of the cubicles in the public lavatory, she started choking. No way in hell is she in shock. And try as she might to stay in denial, the tears just kept flowing until the ladies outside heard her sniffling and began asking if she was alright in there.

"Occupied... No, no, I'm fine," she replied weakly.

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 **ORIGINALLY DRAFTED: September 13, 2015**

 **LAST EDITED: September 16, 2015**


	3. Can't Focus

Ashley moved unsteadily under the shade of the catwalk, ignoring the stares of the passing college students, until she finally reached the open grounds of the campus. She scanned the neatly-trimmed meadow for the benches. There weren't many people during this day of the week and she was grateful that they were unoccupied.

Except for one.

Ashley walked briskly towards Chris sitting underneath the corner stall. He evidently ended his phone app as soon as he saw her.

"Ash!" he greeted with an enthusiastic wave.

"Chris," she croaked.

Chris stood up to help her get seated. It was just the two of them here; the rest of the campus was devoid of over two-thirds of its population. Which was good. It was another long weekend.

"How're you holding up?" he asked, concern plastered all over his face.

Ashley showed him her face. She saw his pupils flash at the bags under her eyes. The streaks were still fresh, it seemed. "Can't say I've been doing any better..."

"Geez, Ash... Have you eaten? Did you take any meds?"

"No. No, Chris. None of that."

"You sound tired."

"Isn't it obvious," she nearly snarled. Her head felt like a hot-air balloon while her shoulders were jelly. She dropped her hands on the table, letting her bag slide against the concrete. At least the shade offered some cool from the morning heat.

"Ash, I...I know we're both going through some really tough times," Chris began, "but we'll both get through this. I promise you; we are going to get through this. This, this trauma isn't going to last."

"It's not forever, I know, but how long 'til it goes away?" she pleaded.

"Soon. Soon." Chris placed his hand over hers. "Trust me. We'll power through this. There is nothing out there that can stop that."

Ashley smiled albeit weakly. But it was still a smile. And a genuine one, too. It felt so good. So warm. Exactly what she needed. "Thanks, Chris..."

"You know, Sam's doing okay. And Jess...she's back to being herself again. Well, mostly, but she's getting there." Chris waited for her to reciprocate some form of reply before continuing. Then again, he regretted mentioning Jess since the normally feisty blonde had become a hollow shell since she was recovered from the mines. She was less vocal, became a semi-recluse, but ended up doing better in academics.

"I know..." Ashley nearly giggled. "I know you're trying to make me feel better."

Chris offered a half-grin. "Am I doing a good job?"

"Well, you're not fired yet."

Both laughed. Finally.

Ashley covered Chris's palm in both of hers. "Hey, I... Sorry for bothering you last night. I was...I was really messed up... Couldn't sleep and...and..."

He quieted her. "Hey, it's okay. I was having it too. Just as bad."

"What?"

"No, really. Ash..." Chris breathed deep. "I've been having these...episodes. The shakes, the noises. Sometimes, I thought I was going to lose it. And I can't say how much talking to you was just as therapeutic, you know?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're not the only one crying in your sleep, Ash, is what I'm trying to tell you."

Ashley swept his arm towards her. "Oh God, are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Really, I am." He glanced away. "Can't say booze helped. But you were better than the meds." Wow, he thought, what a cheesy line. Stupid. Dumb.

"Smart," she remarked. "Thanks."

"Err, you're welcome."

She sighed. The birds chirping above the overgrowth decorating the beams over their heads offered a strong sense of comfort even as the grounds were blissfully devoid of loiterers. Three days of vacation on the calendar and she wanted to spend every minute of it better than she was taking it right now. "I guess you're right."

Chris eyed her. "What?"

"You're right, Chris." There was that gleam again. Oh, that gleam. Ashley was beaming. She was beaming so brightly as though Blackwood never happened. Just like she always did. If he ever mustered up the guts to tell her that his nightmares were seeing her frown, this moment would have probably felt even more dramatic. "We'll both power through this. Together."

"Yeah. We will."

"I can't say how much I'm thankful. You've been so...helpful. I mean, doing so much for me. For us. I'm sure Josh would—" Ashley stopped herself. Her smile disappeared, in its place was apprehension; she looked at him to scan for any hurt. Instead, there was understanding.

"I'm over it, Ash. Josh...Josh would've wanted this, I guess." Chris stifled the feeling in his stomach. Stupid butterflies. "He...just meant well."

"Yeah, I guess so." She felt comfortable again. "I mean, if Josh were here, he would love to see us like this. I mean like..."

"Yeah, I know." Chris squeezed her hand. Her face seemed a lot closer now. Weird; his palms were sweaty. "You look pretty today."

Ashley kissed him on the lips. "Thanks."

* * *

 **ORIGINALLY DRAFTED: September 19, 2015**

 **LAST EDITED: September 21, 2015**

 **NOTE (October 11, 2015): Forgot to freakin' post this.**


End file.
